There are many examples of symphonies and other larger musical works that end quietly, fading away into the distance instead of with marching forth with triumph and brilliance. But no composer did it quite like Gustav Mahler in his three examples of such endings. There is something about the way those transfigured moments leave one breathless, possibly weeping, and certainly edified, that is unmatched even in subdued-ending masterpieces like the Brahms Third Symphony.

Friday evening at Macky Auditorium, Robert Olson led the Colorado MahlerFest Orchestra to two of those endings, both of which feature a female vocal soloist. And these soloists, both University of Colorado faculty members and Boulder treasures, were integral to the effect. For one of them, mezzo-soprano Julie Simson, the performance held layers of poignancy that went beyond Mahler's music -- a deeper meaning that created an even more shattering moment.

But the stage was set for Simson before intermission, and in a most unexpected way. In an unusual programming decision, Olson elected to begin the concert with its centerpiece, Mahler's Fourth Symphony. Conventionally, if paired with something smaller, a symphony is placed after the shorter "opener." But this was not a conventional situation. In addition to a celebration of Mahler's music, the 26th MahlerFest is a celebration of Simson's indelible contributions to the culture of the area. Thus, her "farewell" had to be placed last.

Simson is leaving the university to pursue other opportunities. And as a parting gift, she sang Mahler's "Der Abschied" ("The Farewell"), the large finale to the late vocal/orchestral cycle "Das Lied von der Erde" ("The Song of the Earth"). Extracting the 30-minute piece from its larger context was a risky move, and one that only worked because of the external circumstances. "Der Abschied" is an ending, and it would have been wrong to place it at the beginning -- if the rest of "Das Lied von der Erde" is not presented, the farewell needs something to prepare for it.

And the Fourth Symphony was a most felicitous preparation. Olson chose a satisfying tempo for the first movement, a little faster than usual, but in no way rushed. The "disturbing" climax in the middle was exciting, particularly Olson's seamless transition out of it (one of Mahler's most "disconnected" connections). The composer's most famous violin solo, on an instrument tuned a step too high in order to depict a macabre dance of death in the second movement, was ably handled by longtime concertmaster

Annamaria Karacson.

The radiant third movement shimmered with breathless anticipation, and its climax, with blazing trumpets and horns, was played with almost joyous abandon. And then there was the finale. The Fourth, Mahler's shortest symphony, is unusual in that its last movement is an orchestral song for a female vocalist. The German words, a folk text ostensibly depicting a child's vision of heaven, but one with bizarre and often disturbing images, provide a context for the three preceding instrumental movements as well, particularly the climax of the third.

Here, soprano Jennifer Bird provided an exquisite and sensitive interpretation. Bird showed impeccable musicianship by, most unusually, sitting near Olson through the first three movements, clearly wanting to be completely prepared for her entrance. The intensely calm ending lingered long enough to make the hearer wonder if it was acceptable to exhale.

And so, Simson and "Der Abschied" had their preparation. The piece is long and complex, the Chinese origins of its text wonderfully reflected throughout the music, especially in the throbbing bass notes and gong beats of the opening. Simson caressed every word of the narrative, which depicts a final meeting between friends. And Olson's orchestra was a glorious backdrop. Flutist Kay Lloyd and oboist Max E. Soto, who have enormous solo parts, were called to the front to bow with Simson and Olson.

But we must accept that Simson's voice, a uniquely penetrating instrument like no other, will no longer be an integral part of Boulder's musical life. And we must weep with the parting friends.

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